


let me know that I've done wrong

by freezerjerky, seeingrightly



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Negging, POV Multiple, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 06:30:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16080407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freezerjerky/pseuds/freezerjerky, https://archiveofourown.org/users/seeingrightly/pseuds/seeingrightly
Summary: Hermann’s hands are curled into fists on his desk, and he slowly unfurls his fingers. Newt has not seen Hermann truly angry before, and he won’t get to, because Hermann is going to plan. Hermann is not going to yell at Newt, or throw his things, or refuse to speak to him for a week; Hermann is going to get revenge, and Newt won’t see it coming.or: the one where Newt negs Hermann so Hermann decides to John Tucker Must Die him





	let me know that I've done wrong

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all, this is the first collab between Lex (seeingrightly) and Lindsey (freezerjerky). The Hermann POV parts are written by Lex and Newt POV parts are written by Lindsey
> 
> Inspiration was taken from an episode of iZombie where the main character eats the brain of someone who negs women and the movie "John Tucker Must Die".
> 
> Fic title is from "Dirty Little Secret" by All American Rejects, which is a classic.
> 
> Working title was "Newt Geiszler Must Die" or "Neg Geiszler Must Die" or some variation of all of those words
> 
> thank you to our child [melissa](http://theverytiredgirl.tumblr.com) for editing

Hermann usually eats his meals with Newt, and Newt usually insults him while they do it. Hermann insults him right back, of course. It’s just how they communicate, at this point; nothing Newt’s said has managed to upset Hermann in years, nor has he actually meant to upset Newt in almost as long a time. If they didn’t yell at one another, what with the stress of the war and sharing a confined space, they’d explode, frankly, so Hermann doesn’t think much of it anymore until someone else comments on it.

Tendo’s eating dinner with them tonight, because he likes them separately and is used to the two of them enough to bear spending time with both of them simultaneously. Newt is telling a story about his uncle that Hermann’s already heard at least five times, and while Tendo is listening, Hermann is not, focusing on his food instead. Tendo laughs, and Newt leans in, and Hermann knows to start paying attention again because Newt is about to insult him and he’ll want a comeback.

“Hermann never thinks that part is funny ‘cause he’s got no sense of humor,” Newt says easily.

“Perhaps I did the first time,” Hermann says. “I couldn’t possibly remember.”

“I’d remember if you thought my story was funny, because you  _ never do _ ,” Newt says. “Even though I’m hilarious.”

“Yes, I’m definitely the problem here,” Hermann replies, turning back to his food.

“You’re always the problem here,” Newt says, though his tone of voice reveals that he knows it isn’t true. “And you have absolutely no sense of humor at all. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you tell a single joke.”

“Just because you didn’t realize it was a joke doesn’t mean I didn’t tell it,” Hermann says, and Newt lets out a loud, frustrated noise and turns back to Tendo, ignoring Hermann for the time being.

Hermann resumes eating peacefully. A short while later, Newt jumps up from the table suddenly. Hermann hadn’t heard the explanation, but he assumes Newt had an idea for one of his projects, because this is what he usually does in that case, clapping Hermann on the shoulder, talking to himself under his breath, grabbing his tray and leaving.

“So,” Tendo says pretty much immediately, “I know I ask you this pretty often but you two are okay, right?”

“Yes,” Hermann replies, and Tendo studies him closely.

“Okay, I tried to get Newt to take a different approach but he clearly hasn’t and you’re clearly not gonna put this together on your own,” Tendo sighs. “He’s negging you.”

“Negging?” Hermann repeats carefully. “This is… something separate from nagging?”

“Yeah,” Tendo says, though he looks pained. “Negging is like… he’s trying to, you know, lower your confidence to get you to sleep with him?”

Hermann blinks. He puts down his fork.

“Excuse me?” he asks.

“He’s not even really doing it right,” Tendo continues desperately. “It’s supposed to be more backhanded compliments than outright insults. What he’s actually doing is just... bad flirting. I… assumed you were… doing it back?”

Tendo slows as he watches Hermann process this information. He’d grown so used to the idea of the insults as harmless, meaningless routine. He’d played into them because of that. Has he been flirting with Newt this whole time, unintentionally?

It’s easier to focus on this, on his own actions, than to assess how he feels about Newt’s. He thinks he’s going to be very angry when he does, and he’d rather experience it privately.

“No,” Hermann says eventually, slowly. “I’m just being mean, though mostly out of habit. Heavens knows how that’s been interpreted, though. You’re certain of his intentions?”

“Yes,” Tendo says gravely. “Are you - do you - you don’t seem mad.”

“What you’re used to seeing is not real anger,” Hermann says distantly. “That’s stress relief.”

“Oh god,” Tendo says fearfully, and Hermann agrees with him.

 

Hermann decides, first thing when he gets back to his room, to research negging. He feels the anger building inside of him, cold and spreading, and he needs more information before he determines what to do with it.

Tendo’s description of negging checks out, as does his evaluation that Newt isn’t doing it properly. While some of the explanations Hermann finds are more charitable than others, on the whole it seems negging is meant to be done in a flirtatious context, in which the man  _ should _ be interested in you but  _ isn’t _ . That certainly isn’t what Newt is doing.

Multiple sites suggest that negging should only be attempted with women who rank as an 8, 9, or 10, one who knows her worth and will expect your interest, and one who is out of your league and therefore needs her confidence lowered to sleep with you. Hermann suspects that in another context, it might be charming that Newt thinks he is out of his league, but as it stands, that warped perspective has led Newt down a path of manipulation.

What’s worse is that Hermann doesn’t know if Newt is doing this because he  _ knows _ . Once, Hermann had wanted very little more than to meet Newt, to get to know him better, to take their relationship in a new direction. When they’d actually met, Hermann’s feelings had faded away rapidly and only eventually resurfaced as a muted fondness born of long-term exposure. There’s no part of Hermann that would fall for Newt’s negging, even if done properly; there’s no part of Hermann that would want to sleep with Newt at all, even if he asked very nicely, even if he wasn’t mad.

Hermann had been fairly sure that Newt didn’t know about his feelings, but Tendo’s words and Newt’s behavior suggest that Newt has been trying to sleep with him for a very long time. Hermann cannot imagine that if this is his tactic, he means it as anything more than a game, or that he cares very much how it makes Hermann feel. And he fears that it means that Newt knows about the feelings used to have.

Hermann’s hands are curled into fists on his desk, and he slowly unfurls his fingers. Newt has not seen Hermann truly angry before, and he won’t get to, because Hermann is going to plan. Hermann is not going to yell at Newt, or throw his things, or refuse to speak to him for a week; Hermann is going to get revenge, and Newt won’t see it coming.

Hermann is going to one-up Newt. He’s going to make Newt want him more than Hermann has ever wanted Newt.

 

Newt’s not really sure how or why it started. Okay, he’s got the why down. It has something to do with the desire to get laid and the fact that he may or may not have a bit of a crush on Hermann. It’s not like a big feelings crush, not really. But he figures if he’s going to sleep with someone, it might as well be someone he likes. Likes in the objective sense, because he doesn’t like Hermann all the time.

The problem is, Hermann doesn’t want to sleep with him to the best of his knowledge. He’d have to be a completely different person to even get Hermann’s attention and he’s not going to change himself. And he doesn’t want to change who Hermann is fundamentally because, well, he has a crush on him and that’s truly contradictory to that idea.

He gets the idea one day when they’re fighting in the lab, not shouting or yelling or anything particularly mean. They’re just trading barbs back and forth on the subject of their intelligence. He pauses for a moment at his computer, looks Hermann up and down and then goes quiet. Hermann regards this as a victory for himself and Newt starts to a formulate a plan then where Hermann’s never going to win again.

To clarify, Newt’s not really that guy. He’s taken a handful of Women’s Studies classes. He used to go to protests most every weekend. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone in the world, not genuinely. But- but he used to be very familiar with the concept of negging. Mostly in a scoffing way because as a younger man, he was moderately attractive and kept his standards low. It wasn’t too difficult to find romantic partners for a night or a weekend at that point in time. Now? He’s that weirdo who spends all day shut up in the lab with another weirdo. The concept works, he realizes when he revisits it. He’s mean to Hermann anyway, why can’t he just make this worthwhile?

When he tells Tendo what he’s doing for the first time, he laughs and calls him “brother” in that fond way that only Tendo can use. He then claps Newt’s shoulder, laughs some more and walks away. It’s only several days later that Tendo manages to look at Newt with a straight face and inform him that it’s an awful idea. Newt is used to being told that his ideas are bad ideas, almost to a fault. There’s so little hope he’ll consider changing his mind.

Today they’re in the middle of a staff meeting and Newt’s been drawing little doodles of them in the margins of his notes. He’s not really doing it for Hermann’s benefit so much as because he’s bored and he figures the mean doodles could add to his agenda. Halfway through the meeting, Hermann leans in close, scratching away at Newt’s paper. 

“You smell like cigarettes and mothballs,” Newt whispers. At this point in the meeting no one really pays attention anyway. Newt could probably shout and everyone would assume this is typical of their relationship.

Hermann’s written a note on the paper to stop doodling before he shifts back to sit properly in his seat.

“I’m not going to listen to insults from a man who uses the same body spray that teenage boys use,” Hermann refutes, a bit more loudly than a whisper.

Newt knows this is an attempt to win an easy victory in a fight, but he’s not going to let him win so easily.

“Oh, you’re right, I didn’t realize that smelling and dressing like a grandpa was now all the rage around these parts.” Newt smirks. “Perhaps you can give me some tips on how to present myself?”

“There’s nothing wrong with the way I dress. In fact, it’s professional, which is something you might want to consider doing some research into.”

The old familiar barb doesn’t do anything to dissuade Newt, he’s used to comments on the way he dresses. Besides, most days he wears a tie during work hours.

“Professional for what exactly?” Hermann crosses his arms and leans back in his chair, as though he’s looking for an answer. There are eyes on both of them now, people shifting glances towards them.

“For someone who actually wants to be seen as a respectable scientist. Perhaps you’ve heard of that?”

Before Hermann gets a chance to reply, the Marshall cuts in. Then all eyes are on them. This isn’t the first time they’re being dismissed from a meeting. It occurs rather often, in fact, but usually because they’re fighting about something related to the work, not for a personal spat. This could work out very well for Newt, Hermann feeling embarrassed and ashamed.

He tries to catch a glance at Hermann’s face as he stands and heads for the door, leaving Newt to scramble to collect both of their things in his arms. (He might be acting like a jerk, but he’s not enough of a jerk to leave Hermann’s notes behind.) Once he’s outside of the room, back into the brisk halls of the Shatterdome, he looks around for Hermann, confused about how he possibly could have gotten away from him so quickly.

“Hermann?” he asks tentatively, and he’s immediately pulled back along the wall.

The response he’s expecting is anger, a firm scolding. Maybe some sexy shouting, if he’s very lucky. He’s not into Hermann being mean to him or yelling at him necessarily, but he makes do with the source material that he has in the situation. Hermann hates disappointing authority and not only will this mean he’s angry, but it’s also going to another notch in his self esteem. Newt wonders, not for the first time, if negging wasn’t designed to get people to have hate sex with you.

Instead, Hermann’s standing rather close to him, keeping a grip on his wrist. They’re standing conspiratorially even though most anyone who could see them is in the room they just got kicked out of. Instead of pink cheeks and an angry brow, there’s a look of pleasant surprise on Hermann’s face.

“Oh, Newton, now we’ve got the afternoon free. Do you have any plans for the next several hours?”

The proximity of Hermann is suddenly a bit overwhelming. Newt isn’t exactly pressed against the wall, but he’s not not pressed against the wall and Hermann’s leaning in towards him. Not for the first time, Newt thinks about closing the gap, kissing him. For perhaps the first time it seems like a possibility and he looks at him from under his lashes, trying to present an attractive picture.

“I don’t know, do you have anything in mind?” 

Hermann smirks and Newt thinks for a moment that his plan is finally working. He’s going to be dragged off to have the best sex of his life and then if he’s very lucky, they’ll continue to have sex for the rest of their lives and fall in love and maybe adopt a cat after they save the world and-

“Not yet. Not quite sure you’ve earned being part of this plan yet.”

The bastard outright winks at Newt and saunters away, leaving him shell-shocked. His plan is very clearly working, just not in the way he’s expected.

 

Hermann simply goes back to his room, feeling rather smug about it. At first, he just wants to make Newt pay attention to him. Catch his interest in a new way. Newt won’t be able to resist prying if he thinks there’s a facet of Hermann’s life he doesn’t have access to. He’ll just have to come up with something to reveal to Newt, something that’ll keep his attention. For now, though, it’ll suffice to let Newt wonder, and maybe his guesses will give Hermann an idea.

When Hermann heads back into the lab around the time that the meeting would have let out, Newt is already there, though he doesn’t seem to be getting any work done, and he perks up when Hermann comes in.

“Hey, man,” Newt says, spinning back and forth in his rolling chair and trying to sound nonchalant. “Up to anything interesting?”

“Not particularly,” Hermann replies, setting to work right away.

He can hear that Newt just sits there for another minute or so, but he doesn’t say anything else, and eventually he gives up and goes back to work too. Hermann waits until after dinner, when he’s certain Newt’s all but forgotten.

“Hm,” Hermann says thoughtfully, looking at his phone while up on his ladder, where Newt can see him clearly.

He stares at it for a few moments.

“Newton,” he begins, and then he pauses.

“Yeah?” Newt says.

Hermann doesn’t turn to look at him, but Hermann can hear him fidgeting, and he can hear a note of intensity in that one syllable.

“Never mind,” Hermann says slowly, tucking his phone away.

There’s nothing on his phone, of course.

This lasts for several days, Hermann cutting off a conversation he’s initiated before it even really begins, coming into the lab slightly later than usual and leaving just a bit early, Newt watching him carefully all the while. Several days of this, and then Newt breaks and starts guessing.

“Hey, is something, like, wrong?” Newt asks, sitting on the edge of Hermann’s desk the way Hermann hates. “Is everything okay with your family? You seem like you’re checking for updates or something.”

Hermann slips his phone into his pocket quickly and looks up at Newt, feeling a flash of guilt, though it’s brief. Newt is mostly asking this because he wants to know Hermann’s business.

“No, everything and everyone is fine, thank you,” Hermann says. “Nothing is wrong. I’m sorry if I’ve been a bit… distracted. It is a personal matter, and I’ll be better about not bringing that into our work space.”

He can practically see Newt bite his tongue as he nods slowly.

“Okay,” Newt says eventually. “I mean - yeah, okay. That’s good.”

There’s a long pause, and then Newt explodes.

“Dude, you know I’m gonna annoy whatever this is out of you, right?” he asks, leaning forward.

Hermann rolls his chair back a few inches and frowns.

“I think I’m quite capable of resisting your tactics by now, Newton,” he says, raising his eyebrows and hoping the double meaning ruffles Newt.

It does seem to; Newt hops off his desk and walks back over to his own side of the lab, grumbling under his breath.

“Did you get another job offer or something?” Newt asks after a minute or two. “Thinking about abandoning me for another Shatterdome?”

“Wouldn’t you love that,” Hermann replies dryly, though he makes sure not to actually answer.

“No,” Newt says suddenly, though he’s digging into a sample and seems to be talking to himself now. “A personal matter, he said. Not work.”

He keeps up a steady flow under his breath for quite some time, and it seems to be a mixture of work talk and theories about Hermann. It’s easy enough to tune out until Newt suddenly yelps, and Hermann whirls around, certain he’s injured himself.

“Are you SEEING SOMEONE?” Newt bellows, pointing at Hermann with a scalpel, his eyes bugging out of his head.

_ Found it _ , Hermann thinks, and he simply turns away from Newt again and goes back to work.

 

This is a bit of a hiccup in his plan. Alright, it’s a bit more than a hiccup. Newt’s done some weird and complicated shit to get laid before, but he’s not the type of person to try to convince someone else to cheat. He’s also not sure if that’s possible, what sort of man he’s competing with in this situation. So he asks, because that’s who he is.

“So what’s he like?” Newt asks, as they sit across from each other at the mess hall for dinner. Tendo is not joining them tonight because, unlike them, Tendo has other people he likes to talk to. 

“What is who like, Newton? You know I despise your incomplete thoughts.” Hermann, the big nerd, has brought a book to the dinner table. It’s not even reading for his job, he’s just reading about astrophysics for fun.

Newt thinks that’s super hot.

“Your secret boyfriend,” Newt says, probably a bit too loudly. “Can’t imagine he can be that attractive or interesting.”

“I don’t understand why that information is relevant to you,” Hermann states, and he pushes his reading glasses further up his face.

Newt sighs rather dramatically and pokes the chicken on his plate aggressively. He’s jealous, not too jealous, but he knows he stands no chance depending on who this man is or what he looks like. Something about that smarts a bit more than it should, given the fact that he’s been playing mind games with Hermann. He concentrates on his food like a petulant child and when he looks up, Hermann’s on his phone.

The smile on Hermann’s face in that moment is devastating. Hermann’s given him smirks and wry smiles and he’s laughed at him, but Newt doesn’t remember Hermann ever smiling at him like that. In that moment, he’d do anything to have that smile leveled at him. He’s got to have Hermann. 

When Hermann places his phone on the table, Newt can see the background image for a few moments before the screen turns black. It’s a picture of an attractive man, probably about their age. He looks tall and has kind eyes and he’s dressed in a suit. Newt immediately looks at him and thinks that this is not the type of man who eats canned cheese or makes withdraws from his 401k for impulse purchases.

“So that’s your boyfriend,” Newt states, reaching out to poke at Hermann’s screen.

Hermann sniffs in response. “I don’t know if boyfriend is the label I’d use.”

“Oh, are you his side piece? That seems about right.”

“Do I look like the sort of person who would be someone’s secret lover?”

“Well, I can think of a few reasons to keep you a dirty little secret.”

“Charming as always, Newton.” Hermann resumes eating his dinner and reading, clearly uninterested in Newt’s commentary on his life choices. Unfortunately, Newt himself is very interested in giving commentary on Hermann’s life choices. Even before this, it would probably be considered one of his favorite hobbies.

Newt pushes his tray towards the middle of the table so it bumps against Hermann’s, enough to earn him a glare from across the table. His response is only to give a smirk and do it again until Hermann looks up more pointedly. The look he gives is the one Newt has started to refer to as the “sexy librarian look” where his glasses dip lower on his nose and at least one of his eyebrows rises up on his forehead. Newt’s certified Into It.

“I just don’t understand your taste in dates. I mean, is that the type of man you really think you should be with?”

“I wasn’t aware I was limited to certain types of men I could and could not date.”

“I mean- you’re you, perfectly cute and all that, but I’m sure you know not to set your expectations too high, right?” Okay, he hears himself. He sounds like an asshole, he is an asshole. He’s also saying this because he’s hurt and that’s not Hermann’s fault and it’s not an excuse, but it is what it is.

“Then what type of man do you propose that I belong with?” Hermann pulls off his glasses, letting them dangle around his neck, and leans in closer, like he wants to hear Newt’s every word.

“Well, obviously someone more like me,” Newt ventures. 

Hermann leans back, laughing a bit too heartily for it to be entirely genuine. “And what exactly would you have to offer me, Newton?”

“You’re right, I can do better,” Newt answers, suddenly angry. He’s not sure if it’s more at himself or Hermann or something else he can’t place. Collecting his tray, he stands and leaves the table.

 

Hermann avoids the lab for the rest of the night, even though he absolutely should not, but he can get some of his work done from his room, unlike Newt. His anger is only growing with Newt’s reactions, his implication that Hermann should want to date him even though he’s not interested in dating Hermann. More than anything Hermann is frustrated with himself for coming up with a plan that will require him to get closer to Newt, and to ensure that Newt is at least a certain degree of happy with Hermann, but he has always been a patient man, and one willing to do what it takes to accomplish his goals.

The problem is that Hermann has to strike a fine balance between seeming interested in Newt and staying aloof enough that Newt will get desperate, do anything he asks, not just want to sleep with him but really want to be with him. 

First things first, he should clear up the immediate issues - end their fight and his fake relationship. When he comes into the lab early the next morning, he brings a mug of coffee for Newt and leaves it on his desk for him to find when he shows up. Newt makes a surprised little noise upon seeing it, and Hermann stands up from his chair, though he doesn’t move closer.

“I just wanted to say that you were right,” he says carefully, and watches a series of reactions flicker across Newt’s face with deep satisfaction.

“Okay,” Newt says carefully. “I  _ was _ right, but what does this mean you were wrong about?”

He takes a sip of his coffee and fidgets and Hermann makes a show of looking down as his hands clenched on the head of his cane before answering.

“You know I’m not one to discuss my private life at work,” he says, “but we were already… discussing it, and you were right.”

He pauses again, waits for Newt to panic about which facet of their argument Hermann now agrees with. Newt hides as much of his face behind his mug as possible without looking completely ridiculous.

“Oh?” he asks when he finally emerges, his voice and his eyebrows both very high.

“I ended my… relationship, as it were,” Hermann says, keeping his voice clipped and uncomfortable. “He was wrong for me. He didn’t want anything serious.”

“And you did?” Newt asks immediately, like it wasn’t a conscious choice.

“Not with him, necessarily, but yes,” Hermann says, his eyes on the floor and his voice quiet. “It is… a challenge to find in these circumstances.”

He clears his throat abruptly and sees Newt jump out of the corner of his eye, nearly spilling his coffee. Newt’s mouth opens and closes twice, like a fish.

“Now I think we’d both prefer if I went back to upholding my policy of no personal talk,” Hermann says grumpily, like he’s not the one who initiated it, and he sits back down in a huff.

Newt is shockingly, blissfully quiet for some time after that, and Hermann thinks his plan is worth it for that alone. He’ll give Newt a bit of time before moving onto the next stage of his plan, see if this inspires any action first.

 

The surprise he feels that Hermann has ended his relationship is genuine, but he hides it well. Part of him feels bad about it, if he’s completely honest. Maybe Hermann was happy with what he had and then Newt came along with his really bad takes and ruined everything. Still, maybe this is a chance for him. If he succeeds in his plan to seduce Hermann, they could have a long standing relationship, something convenient to get them through the rest of the war.

Granted, Hermann had said pretty pointedly that he was looking for something serious and then look so very forlorn about it. Was that sorrow targeted at him? He certainly couldn’t imagine so abrupt of a change in Hermann that he’d suddenly not just want Newt, but want a relationship with him but...things happen abruptly all the time and Newt has been working very hard on this plan. Nonetheless, he knows enough to give Hermann his space for a day or two, and he does that.

They’ve just finished their lunch when Newt speaks to him about anything personal next. They frequently walk back to the lab together and bicker about some old tv show or their work or anything they can think about, but Hermann has been quiet. The silence is frankly awful.

“Hey, Herms,” Newt says, when they’re nearly at the lab. “Do you want to get out into the city for a bit tonight?” He’s not sure why he’s offering, this is way too nice of something to ask. He’s going to have to find a way to turn this around.

“I’ve got work to do, Newton,” Hermann answers, but he does turn to him with a spark of interest in his eye.

“Don’t want to be seen with me, eh?” Newt goads. “Gotta say, usually the feeling’s pretty mutual, but I know you’ve had a bit of an upset this week.”

Newt is fairly certain he sees Hermann glare at him, but then his face shifts into something else entirely.

“It’s not that.” Hermann doesn’t heave a sigh, but it’s clear from his posture that he’s damn close to it. “Maybe I will go. It might serve me well to leave this dusty Shatterdome for a few hours.”

Hermann smiles then and Newt catches all of it and his traitor heartbeat picks up. He’s hoping it’s because of the caffeine in his system from his two coffees he had with lunch and not because of the way Hermann looks when he smiles at him. If it is he is well and truly fucked. It’s all the more important he sticks to his plan and remains successful.

“Yeah, alright. What type of thing do you like to do for fun?” Newt asks. He’s genuinely curious, but he’ll never admit it. From their letter writing days he knows that Hermann has many hobbies and interests outside of dressing poorly and math. “I could probably find a place where they sell pants targeted at old men and serve tea instead of booze.” Okay, those are shitty insults, but he has time to practice.

“I’m not actually an old man, you do realize?” Hermann’s tone is not exasperated as Newt would expect but amused, perhaps even teasing. “I can be very...spry where it counts, you understand.”

“Alright then, let’s do karaoke,” Newt suggests, mostly because that’s what he usually does and he cannot imagine Hermann has any level of confidence with singing in public. It’s a perfect way to skip the scales back in his favor. Besides, Hermann said he can be spry and he wants to put that to the test. In more ways than one.

Hermann rather joyfully agrees and Newt supposes he should worry because of this, but it’s too late now.

 

The whole taxi ride to the karaoke bar, Hermann has to fight to remain composed. Next to him, Newt is practically bouncing in his seat, probably excitement mixed with anticipation at seeing Hermann embarrass himself or become too embarrassed to participate. That, of course, is not going to happen; what’s going to happen is their first date, as they’ll later come to think of it, when things are tentatively growing between them, before Hermann pulls the rug out from under Newt.

The bar is one that Newt has been to before plenty of times, Hermann knows, and Newt leads him to a table that’s close to the bar and has a good view of the stage without being too close to any speakers. He must have brought dates here before. The thought sends a thrill through Hermann. He wants to know if Newt knows what he’s doing, yet, or if it’s subconscious.

“Need some liquid courage?” Newt asks with a smile that has a mean edge to it.

“Are you buying?” Hermann asks with feigned innocence, raising his eyebrows.

Newt pauses for a second. It’s odd for Hermann to be in a position where he knows both of them are scheming, calculating, while Newt doesn’t know it. But it’s certainly the position he prefers to be in.

“Yeah, what do you want?” Newt says easily, and Hermann relents that the worst part of the position he’s in is not knowing who’s won with each move.

While Newt is at the bar, Hermann convinces a young couple nearby to let him borrow their copy of the song catalogue. He imagines Newt already has a specific song in mind, something he’s confident in his ability to perform, probably something bleakly sexual. Hermann can’t allow that. He scans the catalogue for a song Newt will know well, one he would perform with friends but never when he’s trying to be impressive on his own.

He already knows what song he’s going to sing himself, and by the time Newt returns with their drinks, he’s found one for Newt as well. He excuses himself to go sign them both up, and when he comes back Newt is watching him with his eyes narrowed.

“Eager to get things over with?” he asks. “You didn’t even drink yet.”

“I simply wanted to make sure our names were down soon enough that we’d get to perform,” Hermann replies, watching out of the corner of his eye as Newt catches onto what he said.

“Our names?” he asks, his eyes widening. “You didn’t sign us up for a duet, did you?”

“ _ No _ ,” Hermann says, equally horrified. “But I did sign us each up for our own slots.”

“You picked my song,” Newt says, his voice entirely, impressively flat.

Hermann thinks Newt is about to explode on him, which would be a satisfying reaction in and of itself, but then Newt gets a speculative look on his face.

“Bold move,” is all he says at length. “Whatever it is, I’m gonna own it, dude.”

And there’s the challenge. Hermann knows Newt will have to decide within moments of the song starting how he’s going to perform, whether he should go ironic or genuine, which will impress Hermann, and undoubtedly the rest of the audience, the most. Newt’s fingers tap along the base of his glass, and Hermann wonders for a moment if he’s really punishing Newt with this or just feeding into the things he enjoys, adrenaline and attention and, to an extent, power struggles.

Waiting is not particularly enjoyable, but Newt knows this is not Hermann’s “scene,” as he puts it, and he leans in close to shout insults about the other performers in Hermann’s ear. After a bit, Hermann is inclined to join him.

“This guy can’t hit any of these notes,” Newt grouses.

“It’s karaoke, Newton. Who can?”

“Me!” Newt says, and Hermann gives him a skeptical look until Newt relents, “I can’t sustain them but I can hit them, come on.”

Hermann merely shrugs, not exactly disagreeing, just because he wants to throw Newt off some more. Newt looks like he does want to say something in response, but then he gets called up to sing.  He seems a little nervous as he gets on the stage, but excited too, anticipatory. His eyes widen and he shoots a look in Hermann’s general direction in the crowd, unable to see him clearly, when he hears the opening bars of  _ Genie in a Bottle _ .

He has a few bars to decide how to play it, and Hermann can see the moment he resolves to commit, can tell before he opens his mouth that he’s going to choose to sing falsetto rather than belt or scream. He’s not serious about it, either; he strikes poses and warbles his way through difficult notes with exaggeratedly sexual facial expressions.

To the rest of the bar, it probably seems like Newt picked this song for himself. But even though Hermann has never gone to karaoke with Newt before, he doesn’t think this is the kind of performance Newt wants to be giving. It’s doesn’t play to enough of his strengths for how much effort he’s putting in, and it’s not a casual enough situation for him to let go of performing well. There’s something odd about knowing this, or at least assuming he knows it, while he watches Newt perform. It makes Hermann feel a little guilty, for all that he intended this as a power play.

When Newt finishes singing, there’s sporadic applause, and Newt hops off the stage and comes back over to the table, where he downs a few gulps of his drink and then takes a big breath, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand after.

“Thanks for that, Herms,” he says, a little breathless and barely sarcastic.

“I know you enjoy a challenge,” Hermann says, keeping his voice neutral.

Newt raises his eyebrows and opens his mouth, but then Hermann’s name is called.

Hermann has participated in karaoke enough times to have a preferred song and to have a particular way he performs it. He doesn’t especially enjoy karaoke, but he does enjoy shocking people who have made assumptions about him, and he’s very good at putting on an exaggeratedly serious rendition of  _ Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight) _ . 

Hermann’s by no means a particularly good singer, nor does he care, and he also doesn’t care what the rest of the audience thinks, though they tend to find him fairly funny. What matters to him is the reaction of whoever he’s trying to startle, and a few verses in he manages to find Newt. 

Newt has his chin resting on one of his hands and his mouth open very wide, his eyebrows drawn together. It’s hard to tell in the lighting, but Hermann would bet Newt’s expression is one of the ones he makes in the lab when he’s about to break through on a discovery.

 

The fact that Hermann even knows songs by ABBA is a shock in and of itself. The fact that he knows a song by ABBA well enough to put on a very thorough performance on the karaoke stage is a whole other matter. Newt’s shocked and surprised and not really sure how he feels. It’s rare to see Hermann acting anything but mildly about something other than math.

What alarms Newt most of all, beyond anything else, is the fact that he really wants to kiss Hermann after watching him perform. And he’s not talking about kissing as a means to an end, he means he just wants to kiss him for the sake of kissing him and that’s a problem. Because he’s going to sleep with Hermann once- maybe several times, but he doesn’t want to get attached. He doesn’t want his feelings to be more than the bare minimum, based on sexual desire. Sure, he’s had those thoughts about adopting a cat and maybe buying a two bedroom condo with Hermann, but for the most part he knows how to refrain from acting on them.

“That was...incredible,” Newt says, as Hermann slips back into his seat. “Truly. I didn’t even know that you knew ABBA existed, Herms.”

He should be mean, he should say something cruel, but he’s going to give credit where it’s due in this situation.

“I listen to a wide variety of music, Newton. My sister and I used to re-enact scenes from  _ Mamma Mia _ .” Hermann knocks back his drink and holds out his empty glass to Newt in a silent request for him to fetch another before putting it back down.

 

Despite the fact that he couldn’t perform in the way he’s accustomed to, Newt considers their karaoke date (because yeah, it was totally a date but not a  _ date _ date) a success. He sits a bit closer than usual to Hermann on the cab ride home and Hermann lets him. Sure, he’s not there yet, but he’s sure it won’t be long now until Hermann’s into him enough to move to the next natural step.

He’s realized that despite Hermann’s boldness in singing, he’s shy otherwise about these sorts of things. He certainly doesn’t seek Newt out outside of work any more than usual and goes back to his room immediately after dinner for the following three nights. On the fourth, Newt jumps up, nearly knocking his tray into Tendo, and follows after him.

“Hey, dude,” Newt states, pulling Hermann aside when they’re both halfway to his room. “I was wondering if you wanted to do something tonight?”

Smooth, he thinks. Sort of like Netflix and chill back in the days before the war. Worst case scenario? He watches a movie. Best case scenario? Earth shattering sex with someone he finds super attractive.

“I had planned to finish up my reports from today,” Hermann explains. “But I suppose I could watch something for an hour or so.”

They choose an action movie that Newt remembers that Hermann had a lot of very heated feelings about back in their letter writing days. For the first fifteen minutes, he’s more impressed with being allowed in Hermann’s quarters than anything else. The room is kept in the same sort of order that Newt would expect from his lab partner. He’s got a touch of the personal in a few family photos on his desk and Newt can’t help but smile at them, the images of a more carefree and younger Hermann with his siblings.

“I didn’t think you’d have something so sentimental in your room,” Newt says, pressing pause on the movie.

“I’m not a calculating automaton, Newton. I have friends, if you’d believe it, and keep in contact with my family.”

“How are they?” Newt asks, and the question feels years too late. Their letters were full of personal details, intimate facts about their lives and then when things fell apart it was like he never knew these things at all.

“I don’t get to speak with any of them as much as I’d like to,” Hermann answers tightly.

“Remember when you let your brother listen to the CD I sent you and he thought my band was really, really cool?”

Hermann rolls his eyes. “He was very young then and had no comprehension of what good music was.”

“You said it wasn’t atrocious!” Newt exclaims. “I’m upset to learn that we’ve lost possibly our only fan.”

They’re both sitting on Hermann’s bed, though on opposite ends. Newt’s leaning in closer to Hermann and he wants to launch himself across the bed and kiss him, but he doesn’t.

“At least you were honest in your assessment that you only could have had one fan and it wasn’t even your father,” Hermann retorts.

“My dad is very proud of me, thank you very much.” Newt bites his lip, realizing that fathers may or may not be a sore subject for Hermann. He’s not actually sure what Hermann’s relationship with his father is right now, but it’s definitely not the jovial and friendly relationship he’s had with Jacob.

The look on Hermann’s face, though, is soft and almost fond. Almost, because heaven forbid Hermann showed any bit of weakness, let alone towards Newt.

“Should we, uh- should we turn the movie back on?” Newt asks.

“You’re the one who paused it.”

They end up pausing to talk three other times during the movie and talk through the next, until it does end up late and Hermann insists on kicking Newt out.

 

When Hermann closes the door behind Newt, he leans his forehead against it for a long moment. He and Newt haven’t spoken so candidly or personally for such a length of time since they were doing it on paper. That, combined with Newt’s bringing up topics from that time in their lives, combined with Newt’s mussed hair and sleepy eyes -

Hermann had kicked him out, as soon as his thoughts had turned in an undesirable direction. It won’t do to dwell on the way things used to be, the way he used to think they would be. He’d resigned himself to its impossibility a long time ago, and he’d well and truly gotten over Newt, helped by the man’s rudeness and messiness. The knowledge of Newt’s  _ negging _ should be the final nail on that coffin.

He can’t lose sight of that mission, just because Newt is being friendly now; it’s likely just a new tactic to get Hermann in bed and nothing more.

Hermann moves away from the door and goes to sit on the end of his bed, closing his laptop, paused most of the way through their second movie. He pulls out his phone and stares at it for a long time. He’s surprised by the conflict brewing inside of him now, the mixed desires to punish Newt for his behavior, to give into this hint of his old feelings, and to pull away entirely.

When he texts Newt  _ don’t oversleep tomorrow or we won’t be able to do this again _ , he’s not sure which part of him it is that’s won out.

 

In the morning, there is a text waiting on Hermann’s phone that says  _ i wont!!!!! _ and by the time he’s finished getting ready for the day there’s a second that says  _ do you want anything from the caf? _

Hermann tells himself that he’s letting cooler heads prevail, that he’s simply initiating the next phase of the plan, when he ignores the texts and heads into the lab like it’s any other day. He greets Newt blithely, sits down at his desk, puts on his glasses and gets to work. He doesn’t allow himself to note Newt’s reaction. He doesn’t check his phone. 

At lunch, he sits next to Tendo and engages him in conversation about his latest project, responding to Newt when he chimes in but not paying him attention otherwise. He excuses himself before Tendo and Newt have finished, and he’s surprised when someone calls down the hallway after him and it isn’t Newt.

“Hermann!” Tendo says, coming to a stop when Hermann turns to meet him. “Hey, brother, you got a minute?”

“Yes, what is it?” Hermann asks, resting both hands on the head of his cane.

Tendo squints at Hermann like he’s evaluating him according to some standards that Hermann can’t imagine.

“How are things between you and Newt?” he asks carefully. “The vibe in there was… weird, but not angry. Or guilty, on Newt’s part, so I don’t think you confronted him, which means… you’ve got some other kinda plan, right?”

Hermann finds he can’t come up with anything to say that isn’t entirely incriminating. After waiting for a few long moments, Tendo groans and runs a hand over his face.

“Alright,” he says to himself, before he looks up at Hermann. “Look, I can’t exactly blame you because what Newt’s being doing is shitty. But I don’t think it’s worth throwing out your entire relationship with him.”

Hermann presses his lips together. He has been focused on making Newt regret his actions; it’s possible that he has not particularly thought about what will happen to their relationship after that point. It’s probable that he has not  _ let _ himself consider it.

The plan is already in motion, however, and Hermann does not know how he could possibly de-escalate at this point even if he wanted to.

“Thank you for your concern, Tendo,” he says stiffly. “I will take this into consideration.”

With that, he turns away and continues walking back to the lab on his own.

 

Newt’s grown soft and quickly. There’s something thrilling about the prospect of meeting his goal, of finally having something that feels like a real chance with Hermann. To sleep with Hermann. Because that’s what this is about. Sex, maybe a lot of sex, or just one or two really good encounters, he’s honestly not too picky. And it has been a few long months since he’s had any attention from anyone in this regard.

But he’s giving in to his natural urge to be over accommodating, eager, tripping over himself to make someone happy so they’ll  _ like  _ him. He doesn’t even really want Hermann to like him, does he? When he slid into the lab that morning to see Hermann pointedly ignoring him, he had discreetly tossed away the styrofoam cup of tea he’d brought for him for breakfast. Sure, putting hot tea in the trash is probably not the smartest idea, but it felt satisfying to throw it away so solidly.

By the afternoon, Hermann is still rather pointedly not paying attention to him and something inside him deflates. The natural urge he feels is to ask what he’s doing wrong, to seek out attention when it’s being denied to him. That’s not the game he’s playing, though. He’s going to reverse this, make it obvious he’s the one who’s ignoring Hermann and not the other way around.

He sticks his earbuds in his ears and listens to his music loudly for the first few hours of the afternoon. While it’s a bit of a task to not goad Hermann into talking to him or arguing with him or even praising his work, he manages well enough with the help of some 80’s classics and his inescapable desire to dance through the lab. He doesn’t even know if Hermann comments on it, that’s how little he cares about getting attention from Hermann.

Around three in the afternoon, he almost falls from slipping on some kaiju guts and decides it’s probably for the best that he actually pays attention to the remainder of his work. He pulls out one of his earbuds and chats to himself.

“Pardon?” Hermann asks at length.

His head snaps up as he turns in the direction of where Hermann is working on his computer.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Newt answers.

“So you’re talking to yourself?”

“Certainly the more interesting person in the room.” He eyes Hermann like he’s sizing him up.

Hermann makes a noise of disagreement and turns back to his computer. Newt resumes talking to himself.

“Newton,” Hermann states. “Please stop talking aloud to yourself.”

“Huh?” 

“You’re talking. To yourself. Again.”

“Oh, I forgot you were there,” Newt answers. “With your…” He wants to comment on Hermann’s clothes or his haircut but instead he gestures at Hermann, denoting that everything is wrong.

“My everything?”

“Now you’re getting it.” Newt smiles and something twists in his stomach thinking about how cruel his smile must look.

Hermann clearly refuses to engage further and turns back to his look. There’s a color in his cheeks, perhaps embarrassment at play, and he looks even more serious than usual. Perhaps Newt has crossed a line, or perhaps he’s made Hermann think about him more seriously, even if just for a few moments.

 

He continues to alternate between ignoring and insulting Hermann like this for another day. By the end of the second day, Newt knows he needs to change tactics, because Hermann’s simply not addressing him at all. There’s only a degree to which ignoring someone like this can work and Newt doesn’t want to push this too far or too hard.

At the end of the day, he hops up onto Hermann’s desk next to where he’s working, wrinkling a few papers in the process. This isn’t exactly the first time he’s done this, or the second, but it is the first time he’s sitting so pointedly close to Hermann.

“I’ve got two tickets to a concert tonight,” Newt explains. “And my date cancelled on me, so I figured you don’t have any plans tonight or ever so I might as well ask.”

Newt definitely never had a date.

“I don’t want to stand for long, it’s been a long day,” Hermann answers, but his expression seems genuinely disappointed.

“It’s seated. An acoustic set.” Sensitive types dig watching shows that are just a dude and his guitar. Unfortunately, Hermann’s likely beyond the point of being charmed by Newt and his guitar, so he’ll have to settle for some concert that came highly recommended by Tendo. (Tendo’s very good at dating, or he was before he got into a serious relationship.)

“I wasn’t aware you liked that sort of thing.”

“I like all kinds of music, I’ll have you know. I’m a very complicated man, Herms.” He winks at him.

Hermann looks between Newt and his computer a few times, then clicks out of the program he’s working on.

“Alright, I’ll go with you to your concert.” The tone sounds more interested than the long suffering agreement he’s used to from Hermann.

“Great, you’ve just got to put on some not terrible clothes and then it’s a date.”

Newt tries very hard to ignore the way his heart feels like bursting out of his chest when he uses that word.

 

Hermann puts quite a bit of effort into his outfit. He picks out the tightest pair of trousers he owns - admittedly not very tight, and forced upon him years ago by his sister - and a dark turtleneck under his nicest cardigan.

When Hermann was much younger, he’d bought this turtleneck with the thought that Newt might like it on him. It makes him flush with embarrassment as he pulls it over it head. He’s going to make certain that Newt likes it.

He’d sensed a shift in Newt today. He wasn’t just annoyed at being ignored; there was a more earnest desire to be affirmed, one that wasn’t there before. Hermann would be willing to bet that part of Newt consciously wants this to be a real date, though whether he’s happy about wanting this remains to be seen.

Hermann is not happy about any of this. Not the way Newt is treating him, not the feelings that threaten to resurface in the moments Newt is not treating him that way, not the things Tendo said or the thought of what will become of their relationship once the plan has run its course. He’s not happy about any of it, and he has to win.

When he steps out into the hallway, Newt’s leaning up against the wall outside his door across the way. He doesn’t look too different from normal, considering how unprofessional his lab attire is, though he does have on a nicer, undamaged tie and his hair is neater than Hermann’s seen it in years. Something in his chest catches at the sight, until Newt looks him up and down with a neutral expression that he’s clearly struggling to hold in place.

Newt starts to walk, his shoulders hunched a little, though of course he slows his pace for Hermann to catch up with him.

“I don’t know why you wear what you usually wear all the time if you’ve got stuff like that,” Newt says, and for all that he’s successfully negged Hermann for once, it doesn’t seem to be intentional.

“Oh, well, I wouldn’t want to distract you in the lab,” Hermann says, catching Newt’s startled look out of the corner of his eye. “That was a joke, Newton. I’m practicing my humor, since you always tell me I’m so bad at it.”

They haven’t even left the shatterdome yet, and Newt is already ruffled and pink and nearly tripping over his own feet. Hermann is enjoying himself, immensely, although he suspects he’s losing sight of the mission a bit in doing so. He goes easy on Newt until they get to the venue, though he does stand a bit closer than necessary on the train ride over, because he needs to start suggesting that Newt’s tactics are working on him. He’s supposed to be the pursued in this scenario, finding the right balance of resistant and charmed that will draw Newt in much further than he wants to be drawn. It’s time to act a little charmed.

 

The seats are very good seats for the show, Newt knows how to find the correct space in any venue for the situation. For this, he has found seats about five rows back, close enough that they can see everything but far enough the sound will not be too loud for them to properly enjoy and maybe talk during the concert. If Newt goes to any concert alone, he usually prefers front row, so he can experience everything about the concert. He doesn’t mind much because this is some artsy acoustic set, though.

Once they’ve found their seats, Newt’s next thought is getting something to drink. This isn’t like karaoke where he wants Hermann to think he needs some liquid courage, Newt needs a drink himself after everything he’s felt in the short span of time between leaving the Shatterdome and arriving at the concert venue.

“Gin and tonic?” Newt offers, leaning over.

“Get me one of your awful beers,” Hermann answers.

Newt takes the time by the bar to collect himself. Hermann looks particularly good tonight, the turtleneck is fairly fitted and flattering and he still looks like Hermann but he looks different in a good way. Pretending to not be immediately profoundly attracted to him was a challenge. Looking at the turtleneck, he wants to take it off of Hermann in the best way.

He returns from the bar, probably too quickly to actually collect himself, with two open bottles of beer in his hand. He deliberates between the two and hands Hermann the bottle that does not have as much foam on the top, because as much as he wants to tease Hermann the careless handling of the bottles was all on him. Hermann holds on the bottle to his and clinks them together before he takes a sip. The face Hermann makes is enough to make Newt laugh, the beer is clearly not the quality that Hermann is used to, but he keeps drinking it anyway.

The opener is rather dull and pitchy, without any real stage presence. Newt spends half of the time leaning over to talk to Hermann. The people in the row behind them keep glaring at the back of their heads, but it’s not actually loud enough to disturb their mediocre concert experience so he doesn’t stop. As he talks, he rests his hand on Hermann’s lower thigh, just above the knee. Hermann gives him a skeptical and pointed look but doesn’t ask Newt to move it. Still, Newt knows not to venture moving his hand higher.

When the main act goes on, just a man and his guitar, Newt finds himself watching Hermann for a few moments. Despite the fact that he really shouldn’t have any reason to care what Hermann thinks of the concert, he wants to know what Hermann thinks. And he wants Hermann to like this thing that he enjoys, even if it’s not his usual sort of thing.

Hermann’s face is impassive at first, but he still seems open to processing this new experience. After the first song, Hermann’s smiling to himself slightly, his too wide mouth curled into a pleasant expression.

“Are you liking it?” Newt takes advantage of the few moments between songs to speak.

“Do you always insist on talking during concerts?” Hermann replies, quirking a brow at him.

Newt squeezes his knee and shifts closer. Once again, Hermann doesn’t push him away and when he looks away from Newt the expression seems more pleased than embarrassed or awkward. He decides it’s best to let Hermann enjoy the concert and maybe if things go right, they can have a drink after or get some street food. That’ll show Hermann how much he wants Newt.

 

It’s unnerving, for Hermann to have as much of Newt’s attention as he does. Or rather, for that attention not to be negative; he is used to Newt’s scrutiny. But this is different. Newt is watching him for reactions. Hermann is having a nice enough time and he lets that show - the performer is talented, the venue isn’t too loud, and Newt’s hand is where it should be for Hermann’s plan to be working. It’s almost a disappointment when the show ends and people begin to stand up around them.

“What’d you think?” Newt asks as he leans in.

“I think I’m glad I decided not to stay at work tonight,” Hermann replies, perhaps a little too honestly, draining the last of his beer.

“Yeah?” Newt asks, and then he clears his throat, pulling back slightly. “If you wanna avoid the shatterdome a little longer…”

“Oh, yes, what else were you planning on doing with your date tonight?” Hermann asks, looking down at his hands, as though he’s just as uncomfortable with the reminder as Newt will surely be.

Newt’s hand slips off of Hermann’s leg as he stands, abruptly.

“Food, or drinks, or both,” Newt says, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Hermann doesn’t particularly want to cloud his mind when he’s got a plan to stick to, or when he’s finding himself missing the feeling of Newt’s fingers on his thigh.

“I’m not averse to grabbing a bite to eat,” Hermann says, and Newt visibly perks up a little.

Hermann regrets his decision somewhat when he learns that Newt intends to eat outside. They stand near a gathering of food trucks, Hermann already shivering slightly. It’s not even that cold out, but there’s a slight breeze, and his ears are quite unprotected by his hair.

“Come on, I swear the fried rice is great,” Newt says, reaching out to grab Hermann’s arm just above the elbow and shake it a little. “And it’s hot food! It’ll warm you up, dude. I’ll even buy.”

Hermann looks down at Newt’s hand on his arm. He hadn’t voiced that he was cold; Newt just knew.

“Fine,” Hermann says, and he follows Newt to get in line.

By the time they place their order and move off to the side, Hermann is regretting his decision, which Newt notices as well.

“Here, trade with me,” he says, and then he begins to shrug out of his leather jacket.

“What?” Hermann practically yelps, leaning away from him.

“Trade, you big baby,” Newt says, grinning, as he holds out his jacket. “I’ll be warm enough in your cardigan, and you need this.”

Hermann stares at Newt in disbelief for another moment more before he begins to unbutton his cardigan, hoping it’s dark enough where they’re standing that Newt can’t see the color in his ears. Newt even has the audacity to continue holding out his jacket, rather than handing it over, until Hermann lets him slide it up first one arm and then the other. He then bundles into Hermann’s cardigan, the sleeves a little too long on him, crossing his arms like perhaps he is still a little cold. Hermann would like to hit him on the shins with his cane.

Wearing Newt’s leather jacket is, unfortunately, almost as much of a rush as he had expected it to be, back when he cared to think about that kind of thing. It’s soft from wear and smells like him and it makes Hermann furious.

They sit on a bench to eat their fried rice. It’s a companionable quiet they fall into, which Hermann suspects is mainly a result of two things: they’re not at work, so they’re not thinking as actively about their responsibility in preventing the apocalypse, and they’re already on something of a date, so Newt doesn’t feel the need to neg Hermann.

It’s nice. Perhaps this is what things could have been like between them, if Hermann had just decided to tell Newt to stop negging him, like an adult.

But he didn’t, and now Hermann has to follow through with his plan. He needs to string Newt along a little more, deny him a little more, to make sure that Newt is serious about him.

“Do you want to walk back to the shatterdome?” Hermann asks when they’re nearly done eating, not looking up from his food.

“Do you?” Newt asks. “I mean, yeah, sure.”

Hermann walks closer to Newt than he normally would. The city streets are bright and still somewhat crowded, and normally, if they did things like this normally, they would separate a bit to make it through the sidewalks more easily. But Hermann stays close, squeezes past other people, their arms and shoulders brushing. More than once, Newt puts his hand on Hermann’s shoulder or back or waist when they get pressed together or bumped.

All of this, Hermann lets happen. He pulls away when he feels Newt’s fingers brush his own on a particularly rowdy street corner. While he doesn’t look over at Newt, he arranges his expression into something conflicted and a little embarrassed. As they cross the street, though, Hermann lets their shoulders touch in a way he hopes Newt will read as apologetic. Newt leans against him in return.

They’re nearly back to the shatterdome when it begins to downpour.

“Shit!” Newt yells, and this time, since it’s instinct and not agenda, Hermann lets him grab his hand and pull him under a nearby awning.

They’re already soaked after just a few moments, and Newt laughs and pulls off his glasses to wipe them off on his t-shirt, though it barely helps.

“Your hair looks ridiculous,” Hermann says, speaking a bit loudly to be heard over the rain.

“So does yours, from what I can tell,” Newt replies, though his voice is missing all of the usual bite his insults carry, and his expression is softer than Hermann is used to as well.

“Here,” Hermann says, and he takes Newt’s glasses.

His turtleneck isn’t as wet, somewhat protected by Newt’s leather jacket, which he unzips in order to dry the glasses off on the hem of his own shirt. Instead of handing them back, he places them directly on Newt’s face.

“I was right,” Newt says, a little weakly. “Ridiculous.”

“You know, now I’m even colder,” Hermann remarks as a shiver runs down his spine.

“Zip back  _ up _ ,” Newt laughs, but then he takes a step closer and reaches out to do it himself.

As he reaches the top of the zipper, he looks up at Hermann. They’re very close together, and Newt is looking at Hermann’s lips, and then he is leaning up to press their mouths together. Newt’s is hot and gentle and Hermann wants to fall into that, wants to burn right up so fiercely for a moment that he pulls back after just a few seconds.

No; he doesn’t want to want that.

He takes a step away from Newt, and then another, shaking his head to clear it. It’s fine. This reaction works just as well as part of the plan. Hermann is supposed to be conflicted, not entirely won over yet. He can rub his still-warm mouth and look away from Newt and not know what to say.

“Uh,” Newt says, high-pitched and crackling. “Sorry.”

“ _ I’m _ sorry,” Hermann says.

“Man, since when do we apologize to each other?” Newt asks, cracking an awkward smile.

Hermann allows it, huffs out a small laugh.

“A lot of things are happening that don’t usually,” he replies, looking away from Newt again.

“Yeah,” Newt says, nodding in his peripheral, jumping on the olive branch. “Weird stuff, huh?”

“Certainly requires some adjusting,” Hermann agrees as blatantly as he dares.

He can’t imply too strongly that he’s interested in Newt, or Newt might lose his own interest. Hermann fears that this plan is a ticking time bomb; he has to win over Newt and then use that to punish him before Hermann’s feelings grow too strong to be ignored. He needs to finish this and be done with it, he knows, as Newt smiles at him with relief.

 

Thinking about the kiss consumes Newt for several hours after it happens. It’s not something he’s planned or part of his strategy to get Hermann into bed. He kissed Hermann because he wants to kiss him. Present tense, because the idea of that kiss being a one time thing really makes his stomach twist in an awful way and oh. He’s severely fucked, isn’t he? He’s got to find a way to get back in control of this.

He’s not going to let himself catch feelings this strong for Hermann, because that’s not the game he’s playing. They don’t have time for that level of romantic involvement or feelings. This was supposed to be an easy way to get both of them some stress relief, nothing too complicated. They’re both men in their thirties who probably have someone out there waiting for them far better suited to their eccentricities. 

His plan is near completion, he knows. It’s not ego but acknowledgment of fact that Hermann’s reaction to the kiss was not one of disinterest. He was taken aback, confused maybe, but certainly into into it in some capacity. That’s the big thing here, he’s already won, he’s just got to figure out the way to claim his prize.

He needs some outside help, though, so he decides to pay a visit to Tendo, the person he trusts most in the whole world for romantic advice. Tendo’s trying to do his paperwork when Newt bursts in with his usual flurry. He looks up at Newt, then back down at his paperwork, then back up at Newt and gives a heavy sigh.

“Can I help you with something, brother?” Tendo asks, lifting his mug of coffee. It’s clearly gone cold, but he takes a sip.

“I need some romantic advice.”

To an ordinary person, the grimace Tendo gives would be an answer enough. Newt is not an ordinary person.

“Is this about your weird thing with Hermann? Because honestly, no one wants to be in the middle of that.”

“Tendo, dude. I’m so, so, so close to getting somewhere with him,” he explains. “But I just don’t know how to make that happen.”

“Well, I think sitting down and having a nice long conversation with Hermann is a good first step there.” Tendo takes another sip of his coffee and looks entirely too pleased with himself.

“I’m just gonna ask him over to watch a movie and hope for the best,” Newt answers, sighing to himself. Tendo is clearly no help with dating advice.

 

He may have gone a bit overboard in preparing to watch a movie. First of all, he’s definitely lit a few candles, which are contraband in the Shatterdome. Secondly, he’s left out his condoms in an obvious but not too obvious place. As in, he took a lot of time to think about the best place to put them so Hermann didn’t think his only goal was to seduce him, but he’s ready in case the situation rises.

For the film he’s chosen a nature documentary. His reasoning is sound, it’s something Hermann would assume Newt enjoys (because he does), something Newt doesn’t mind missing most of, and something Newt could watch to the end without abject boredom taking over. He’s invited Hermann over at 9 pm and Hermann arrives almost exactly on time, punctual as always.

Hermann’s more dressed down than Newt remembers ever seeing him, in a light knit sweater and some trousers that may or may not be jeans. He looks good, he looks attractive and tangible and touchable in a way that Hermann hasn’t felt to Newt since they were writing letters. Newt gestures at the entirety of his room, less cluttered than it usually is (he’s even taken the time to make his bed). 

“Why don’t you take a seat and we can start the movie?” Newt says, it sounds disinterested but really he’s trying to cool the desire to immediately kiss Hermann.

The smile he receives in response is warm and Hermann gingerly lays his cane against Newt’s nightstand, mere inches from his far too obvious now condoms, before settling down with his back to the wall on Newt’s bed.

Newt settles in beside him, not too close, but close enough that they’re almost touching. Instead of shifting away like he would expect, Hermann shifts closer. They watch the documentary in silence for a few long moments when it’s Hermann who speaks up, leaning over to pause the movie.

“I’ve been thinking, Newton,” Hermann begins. “About the other night.”

“What about it?” Newt asks. His heart feels like it’s in his throat but he can’t appear affected by this, he won’t be affected by this.

“What happened in the rain, between you and me.” Hermann’s ears are tipped with pink, embarrassment and perhaps something else.

“You mean when I kissed you,” Newt states plainly. His success is so close he can taste it, hopefully literally.

“Yes. When we kissed. It was not entirely unpleasant.”

“That’s not a compliment, Herms. I know it’s hard for you to be nice, but I don’t consider that a compliment.”

“I liked it, alright?” Hermann confesses. “I enjoyed the kiss we shared for a few moments. I’ve been thinking about it ever since.”

“Enough to do it again?” Newt offers.

He doesn’t receive an answer, though, as Hermann grips him by his shirt and pulls him in for a kiss. He should have known Hermann was a bit more forceful than he’d been leading on. His hands, those beautiful, long fingered hands, splay across Newt’s chest as he melts into the kiss. Newt, considerably less of a gentleman, reaches for Hermann’s waist, pulls himself even closer so their bodies are flush together.

Hermann kisses like someone who’s had a lot more practice than Newt thought he had. He kisses like someone Newt wants to keep kissing for a long time, just the right amount of tongue and just the right amount of teasing. When Hermann bites Newt’s lower lip, he moans, trying to chase that wonderful mouth to return the favor, but Hermann smirks and pulls away.

“I’m going to suggest something rather forward, Newton,” Hermann says, his voice low and sultry. God, he wishes the bastard had any other accent but the one he has.

“Yeah?”

“I want you to take off all of your clothes.”

Newt’s not sure there isn’t a part of him that isn’t red with some mixture of shock, arousal, and embarrassment. He hadn’t expected to be an object of desire like this, he’d more expected some sloppy handjobs or maybe (if he was very lucky) to give Hermann a blowjob. This feels different, though.

“Okay- yeah that’s, me first, right?” Newt pulls away and tugs his t-shirt over his head, tossing it in the direction of his dirty clothes pile.

Hermann runs a hand appreciatively down his chest, purposely grazing past a nipple on the way down, but then he pushes Newt gently. Newt likes the playful look in his eyes, it’s something new and exciting, so he stands, resting a hand on the button of his jeans.

As he attempts to slide them down, he wiggles his hips a bit and he knows he’s trying to look sexy and probably looks ridiculous, but it won’t matter. Sex is ridiculous and fun and he knows he’s going to make Hermann feel fantastic and then maybe in the aftermath they can talk about why Hermann makes his heart feel like it’s going to burst. But after this, after what he’s been working for.

He slips off his socks along with his jeans, not wanting to bring socks with a shark pattern to bed with him. He wastes little time in hooking his thumb into the waistband of his boxer briefs (Newt usually wears boxers but this seemed like the occasion for something nicer) and starts to slide them down when he’s stopped.

“Wait, Newton,” Hermann states, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Yes?” Newt asks, stepping closer, not exactly in Hermann’s space, but close enough.

 

There is a part of Hermann that wants Newt entirely naked for this. Two parts, rather. There is the part of him that wants to see all of Newt, to throw the plan out entirely, and there is the part of him that still thrums with fury, that wants to strip Newt down and then shove him out into the hallway, to embarrass him, to punish him, like he always planned to.

Hermann clenches his hands at his sides. He can’t do any of that; he’s stuck in the middle, and Newt is staring at him, his thumb still hooked into his boxer briefs, a slight frown on his face.

“Herms, what’s wrong?” Newt asks.

“I’m not going to sleep with you,” Hermann says.

Newt actually glances down at his own unclothed body in confusion.

“Okay,” he says slowly, “did you change your mind?”

“No,” Hermann says. “I was never going to sleep with you, Newton, because I knew that’s what you were trying to get me to do.”

Newt shifts his weight from one foot to the other, nervous.

“Tendo explained to me what you were doing,” Hermann says, and Newt closes his eyes. “So I made you  _ really _ want me. To punish you for your immature, unprofessional behavior.”

“Unprofessional?” Newt scoffs. “Then what do you call - whatever it is you’ve been doing? It’s super professional that you decided to John Tucker Must Die me, Hermann.”

“That I what?” Hermann asks, but he barrels on, “I refuse to take responsibility for this situation that you initiated, that affected our entire working relationship and the way we interacted on a daily basis.”

“Like what you’re doing now isn’t going to affect our working relationship?” Newt yells, throwing out his arms. “Making me think you’re into me, making me think we’re gonna - start some kind of relationship? And don’t pretend like the way we interacted wasn’t perfectly acceptable to you. It’s basically been a comfortable routine for years at this point.”

Hermann is thrown by Newt’s admission that he wasn’t explicitly expecting a sexual relationship, the implication that he’s not entirely averse to an alternative. It’s what Hermann had been aiming for, but it’s still startling to hear that it may have worked, as well as frustrating. Surely all of Newt’s esteem for Hermann has vanished now.

“It was a comfortable routine until I found out your intentions,” Hermann snaps a moment late. “Perhaps if you were any good at negging I would have understood sooner and could have put a stop to it, but as it stands, our entire professional relationship has been built on dishonesty and manipulation.”

Newt looks briefly stricken, but he covers it up quickly, schools his expression into something placating.

“Dude, I know that what I did was shitty but that’s a little extreme,” Newt says, like they’re having a minor disagreement in the lab, and Hermann turns to ice.

“Get out,” he says calmly.

“What?” Newt asks, like maybe he didn’t hear him correctly.

“I said get out,” Hermann repeats, just as calmly, and he doesn’t know what his expression looks like, but after a moment, Newt hurries toward the door without grabbing any of his clothing.

It’s only once Newt is outside and Hermann sees the condoms on the nightstand that he remembers he’s in Newt’s room and not his own, but it’s too late to back down now.

 

Newt shouts at the door, which is probably his first mistake. He lets out a single and undignified “fuck you” after the door clicks behind him, locking as it’s designed to do. Because he’s shouted, there’s people peering out into the hall, staring at him as he stands in his boxer briefs in the cold hallway. Not only is he on display, but it’s certainly not to advantage.

His only saving grace is that people are used to thinking that he’s weird. Okay, there’s still a few videos being taken of him running down the hallway and swearing, but there’s been worse videos of him spread around the Dome. He should be going back to his room and busting down the door to insist that Hermann lets him back in, but he’s not fighting in public with Hermann. In fact, he’s probably never talking to Hermann again. Who cares if they have to share a lab? Or that with the current budget there’s no way either of them will be relocated. Or that he’s fairly certain his heart is broken just a little bit.

Because it is just a little bit. Fuck Hermann, only not literally. That’s fully off the table forever. Not that it was ever actually on the table, apparently. He seemed perfectly aware that Newt was into him, probably took more delight in it because he was attracted to Hermann. Fuck him again, honestly.

He ends up knocking on Tendo’s door, because Tendo’s the only one who is going to potentially help him after he’s done laughing. And when he answers the door he does laugh and laugh heartily, clutching his stomach and wiping tears from his eyes.

“I take it you and Hermann talked, brother?” he asks, ushering Newt into his room.

“Hermann did most of the talking actually,” Newt snaps, shifting from foot to foot in the doorway. “Can I borrow some clothes and maybe sleep on your floor tonight?”

“What exactly happened?” Tendo rummages through his drawers, shoves a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt at Newt. Newt’s genuinely surprised he doesn’t wear suspenders to bed.

“He kicked me out of my own damn room!”

“Why did he do that?”

“Because apparently I’m a heartless bastard for playing games for trying to sleep with him,” Newt explains, slipping the t-shirt over his head. 

“You do hear what you’re saying, right?” Tendo sits on the edge of his bed, reaches over for one of his pillows and a throw he keeps on his bed before he tosses them to the ground.

“Yeah, I’m aware. I’m a dick, I get it. But he knew I had feelings for him the whole time and still decided to just...play me. Instead of telling me I’m a dick before he could hurt me.” He steps into the sweatpants. At least Tendo’s comfortable clothes are actually comfortable.

“Maybe you’re both assholes. Have you considered that possibility?”

He’s tempted to throw himself on the ground, but he doesn’t, instead he kneels down on the ground, then carefully lays on the throw blanket. The floor is miserably hard but he can’t imagine trying to go back to his room.

“He certainly is.” Newt huffs. It’s cold, but he’s already imposing on someone’s kindness. “For what it’s worth, I know negging is shitty and wrong but I wasn’t trying to sleep with him just to pass the time. Ever, really, but especially not now. I was really into him.”

“I’m sorry, Newt. You had to have some idea this would happen though.”

Tendo lays back in his bed, reaching for his bedside light. Of course stupid perfect Tendo with his perfectly coiffed hair would go to bed before ten. It would be at least another three hours until Newt could fall asleep, maybe he’d even get bold enough to demand he be let back into his own room.

That night he doesn’t sleep nor demand to be let back into his room.

 

The next day, he’s at the lab early. Tendo’s let him borrow one of his less favorite shirts and pants that somehow manage to fit Newt. He must look like a mess, like he had the weirdest one night stand. Which is what he was trying to do, in a way, only over a series of many nights. Hermann’s nowhere to be found when he arrives, which is absolutely the intention. It’ll be unavoidable, working with him, but he also knows that Hermann has basically implied their working relationship is over as well as everything else so he sees no need to engage.

Besides, this was all a very juvenile game with the world actively ending around them. He puts in his headphones and starts to work on some samples as he blasts his music. What better incentive to throw himself into his work than avoiding the person who clearly hates him most in the whole world.

It’s around noon when he looks up and realizes that someone’s placed his phone and the key to his room on his workbench, but he refuses to look to see if Hermann’s around. Instead, he busies himself with making sure he hasn’t missed any important texts or phone calls. He hasn’t, naturally. Besides his family, Newt doesn’t really have any friends. Technically he has Tendo, but he was with Tendo. He had, in some weird way, Hermann, even if he’d never admit it. Now he has no Hermann and he’s feeling the loss of that, regardless of how awful Hermann had been last night.

 

Hermann leaves the lab early for lunch. He isn’t surprised when Tendo sits down across from him a short while later. He’d recognized the clothing Newt was wearing, and while Hermann doesn’t exactly want to hear all of what Tendo surely has to say, some of it will absolutely be supportive and reassuring and, at the end of the day, Hermann is hurting.

“So I hear you went through with some kind of revenge plan after all,” Tendo says carefully, and Hermann cannot tell if he knows the details or not.

“I did,” Hermann replies stiffly, waiting for Tendo to reply that he doesn’t seem happy with the results.

Instead, Tendo sighs, and Hermann feels a bit guilty for not giving his friend enough credit. Tendo wants what’s best for both of them, despite themselves.

“I’m not going to lie to you,” Tendo says eventually. “I know that Newt knows what he did was shitty, but he’s still defending himself. I think it’s because he doesn’t wanna acknowledge the real reasons he did it.”

“The real reason,” Hermann repeats. “A reason other than wanting to sleep with me?”

“One that he wouldn’t want to admit to,” Tendo says, giving Hermann a significant look. “Man, I can’t explain this to you for him, but I don’t think he’s gonna do it unless you ask.”

Hermann understands what Tendo must be implying, but he cannot believe it. Or rather, he can believe it, but he doesn’t want to. If Newt has any kind of real feelings for Hermann and this is how he chose to act on them, well, that’s absurd but not out of character; the problem is that surely, after Hermann responded how he did, those feelings are gone.

“Why are you telling me this much?” Hermann asks, his voice gone hoarse.

Tendo sighs again.

“I don’t think you’d have reacted as strongly as you did if there wasn’t something along those lines happening on your end too, brother,” he says gently.

Hermann looks down at his hands. His next breath comes shakily.

“And you think we can just move forward from this if we talk about it?” he asks, bitterness creeping into his voice. “Whether - whether you’re right about any of that, or we go back to being lab partners who actually speak to one another?”

“You sure can’t move forward without talking about it. At the very least I think it’ll help to acknowledge that there’s complicated stuff happening on both ends.”

“You’re right,” Hermann mutters despite himself, and Tendo leans across the table to clap him on the shoulder, smiling with relief.

 

Deciding to talk to Newt about this is easier said than done, and deciding to was quite hard. Hermann spends much of the afternoon staring furtively at Newt rather than doing his work, not that Newt notices, with his headphones turned up loudly as his back to Hermann’s side of the lab. Several times Hermann actually stands up from his desk only to sit back down before he can make himself move. Newt removes his headphones and lifts his recording device, but before he can speak into it, Hermann jerks into motion, standing up at his desk and speaking himself.

“Newton, may I have a moment of your time?” he asks uncomfortably.

Newt turns and looks over his shoulder, slowly lowering the device. He looks suspicious and angry and curious. Hermann takes a sharp breath.

“I’m sorry for what I did,” he says. “Excuses won’t make up for having done it, but I’d like to explain why I did it.”

Newt bites his lip, then turns around fully in his chair.

“You did it to get back to me ‘cause I pulled a dick move,” he says, shrugging with forced nonchalance. “I pissed you off.”

“Yes, of course,” Hermann says, “and once I started I felt I couldn’t back down even though I, at points, wanted to.”

“At points,” Newt scoffs with a little laugh.

“Will you let me finish?” Hermann asks through gritted teeth. “I’m trying to tell you the reason that what you did upset me so much, the reason that I felt so conflicted as I was carrying out my plan.”

“Go right ahead,” Newt says, gesturing expansively.

Hermann closes his eyes as he speaks next.

“When we were writing to one another, I had feelings for you. After we met and it went poorly, they faded away. I stand by all the reasons your - your negging upset me, but the part of me that felt that way about you was also upset by you only being interested in me as a - a conquest or a game.”

Hermann opens his eyes, but Newt’s expression is unreadable. Hermann swallows and thinks about what Tendo said about Newt having more complicated reasons as well, and he takes a risk.

“That same part of me also made it difficult to get closer to you as part of a ploy,” Hermann continues. “I was not expecting it. But I was afraid that I had already ruined our relationship anyway, and I was still angry with you, so I carried through the rest of the plan. And I regret it.”

 

“You literally kissed me and kicked me out of my own room, Hermann,” Newt states. “Yeah, alright, I get it. You think I did all of that to get laid, I did. Happy that I’m admitting it? And at first, I wasn’t really thinking about what you felt, or had felt, or didn’t feel. If I’d had known you had feelings for me I’d-”

Being honest in this new, raw way is not always easy for Newt. As much as he likes to be loud and apparent with his flaws and insecurities it’s difficult when he comes up short. Or when he’s in the wrong. He takes a deep breath, runs a hand through his hair.

“Listen, dude. I respect you a lot. But it’s not like I would have had any reason to assume you’d have ever been into me. I’m- well I’m me, and you’re Mister Professionalism and you definitely think you’re out of my league, because probably you are. So I handled being attracted to you in the shittiest way known to mankind, no big surprise there, right?”

“Newton, you can’t actually rely on blaming everything on your personality defects for the remainder of your life-”

“I like you. Like in the juvenile like like way, okay?” Newt cuts in, certain Hermann’s going to go into some biting insult. He’s got to put all of his cards on the table if there’s any chance of saving this and damn, he’s mad at Hermann but he really wants to kiss him again if he can. Is that too much to ask? “I handled that...crush like I was an eight year old kid, because I didn’t even acknowledge it was a crush until I was too far gone in my weird scheme.”

Hermann purses his lips like he’s processing, or he’s about to say something.

“But I also don’t think you were fully unaware of the fact that I was genuinely into you. You’re a smart man. So yeah, I was a dick to you and I deserve to be punished but dude, you could have done it in a way that didn’t throw my feelings for you back in my face.”

“Perhaps it is best if we both acknowledge that we did not handle this situation well and move on from that,” Hermann explains. “We do still have to work together for the foreseeable future, after all.”

“Unless the world ends,” Newt adds with a smile. If they could save their working relationship, that seems like it’s progress. Maybe, just maybe, there’s hopes of more, he realizes. Just the level of hurt that Hermann feels betrays a level of personal investment. If nothing else, Hermann might like Newt as a human being, if not a valid romantic prospect.

“I can tell you the precise statistical likelihood of the world ending if you are inclined.”

“Don’t make this depressing, Hermann.”

“More depressing than your sad little box of condoms on your nightstand?”

Newt’s tilting back a bit in his chair and loses his balance at that. He’s blushing within a few moments, which is absurd and really unfair.

“You don’t get to tease a man for safe sex practices.”

Hermann rolls his eyes and it feels a lot more like old times. Before they started to play their games. But Newt doesn’t want to lose these feelings he’s starting to become comfortable with.

“Apologies, I will not tease you about the sex you are not having.”

That’s an arrow to the heart, isn’t it? So maybe there’s still a bit of that pain, a bit of the acknowledgment of these weird and relatively new feelings. Hermann steps away then, back to his workspace with his chalkboards and his computers from out of the early nineties.

“Wait,” Newt starts, rising to his feet. He follows Hermann back to his side of the lab. “Do you want to get dinner sometime, maybe? Or go see another concert? I mean- I’m gonna try something new here. I’m putting my cards on the table. Let’s try going on a real date, that we both know and agree is a date. And if you don’t like it, we can go back to being weird colleagues who have kissed twice.” 

This wouldn’t be the first case where Newt has had a colleague’s tongue in his mouth. Nor would it likely be the last. Hermann pauses for a moment, deliberating as he rests both of his hands on his cane.

“I would not be opposed to the idea,” Hermann answers and Newt’s fairly certain he’s trying to hide a smile.

 

They sit close together on the train ride home from their date, which was dinner at a relatively casual restaurant, low pressure and ideal for talking. And they did talk, a lot, in a way they haven’t since…

“I don’t think we’ve spoken this candidly with one another since our letters,” Hermann says.

Newt presses their arms together as he leans closer.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Once we broke the dam… It’s nice. It’s nice, right?”

“Yes,” Hermann says, and he looks at Newt for a long moment, and then he continues, “It’s a shame that it took us this long to circle back around to communicating properly.”

Newt licks his lips and visibly gears himself up before speaking again.

“You know, part of the reason I handled my - my interest in you badly, and focused only on, you know, trying to sleep with you, is ‘cause I was scared of dealing with a real relationship while this whole apocalypse is happening. And while we’re being candid, that fear hasn’t really gone away, dude.”

Newt looks away and his hands clench where they rest on his thighs. Hermann reaches out and grabs his nearest hand, and when his fingers uncurl, he slots their hands together, leaving them there on Newt’s thigh.

“Newton,” he says gently. “I don’t think either of us is particularly knowledgeable about handling a real relationship regardless of the circumstances.”

Newt barks out a laugh that makes several people turn to look at them and sags against Hermann’s shoulder until he can rest his head there.

“Ugh,” Newt says, though he still sounds amused. “This is gonna be a mess.”

“You’re always a mess,” Hermann retorts, pressing his cheek to the top of Newt’s head.

They reach their stop shortly after that, and Hermann is disappointed to lose the points of contact between them, but Newt keeps a firm hold on his hand, which is a pleasant surprise.

“Hey, so, uh,” Newt says quietly as they enter the shatterdome, “you gonna let me be a gentleman and walk you back to your room?”

Hermann snorts before he can stop himself.

“I will let you do one of those things,” he says.

“Hm,” Newt says, and Hermann can hear the smirk in his voice without even looking. “If you don’t want me to act like a gentleman, all you gotta do is ask, Herms.”

Hermann gives Newt a considering look out of the corner of his eye. He’d predicted Newt would wait for Hermann to make any moves, to make up for his behavior, and Hermann appreciates that. He does. But things were always going to be a disaster between them, no matter what, and holding back at this stage doesn’t seem like it would serve much purpose other than denying them what they’ve both wanted for a long time.

“Alright,” Hermann says as they come to a stop outside of his door.

Newt looks a little awkward now, and he slides his hand out of Hermann’s and moves to take a step back, but Hermann stops him by grabbing the front of his jacket, the one Hermann wore in the rain the first time they kissed. Newt’s eyes widen, and then they close as Hermann leans in and kisses him, the first kiss they both fully mean, slow and sweet and maybe a little too filthy for out in the hallway.

“I’m asking,” Hermann says when he pulls back slightly.

“What?” Newt asks, distracted, his voice cracking.

“I’m asking you not to be a gentleman,” Hermann says, and Newt surges up to kiss him again.

 

It takes all of about five minutes to realize that the one thing Newt’s been missing in his life is seeing Hermann naked. This is because it takes all of five minutes to get Hermann naked, which is an impressively short time, given the fact that he was certain until this moment the man wore at least six layers at all times.

And okay, it’s not just the naked thing, but it’s also the fact that Hermann’s currently kissing along his neck with a level of concentration he’s only seen Hermann give math and ABBA karaoke. He still finds it hard to believe that Hermann could potentially actually be into him. For more than the sex. But he suspects until they can save the world, this may just be mostly sex. Newt will cope somehow.

“Dude-” Newt starts, knowing he’ll have to interrupt the important kissing they’ve been doing. “Do you have condoms?”

“I stole yours,” Hermann states, looking up at Newt through his lashes. “In my bedside drawer.”

“You stole my damn condoms?”

“You weren’t using them.”

“Neither were you, bastard. You’re on top anyway, you can get them.”

They’re lying in Hermann’s bed and Hermann’s stretched on top of Newt. Newt sort of loves the pressure of another body top of his own, and how solid and surprisingly comfortable Hermann feels in this capacity. Hermann leans over and stretches towards the drawer, plucking two condoms from the box.

“Can you at least take your atrocious boxers off?” Hermann asks. 

“Do you promise you won’t kick me out?” Newt gently nudges Hermann off of him so he can shimmy off his boxers, complete with a kaiju themed novelty print.

“Notice I haven’t promised anything ye-”

He’s cut off completely when Hermann takes his cock in hand and starts to stroke him slowly. As much as he’s separated himself from his awful and cruel games, he feels a swell of pride. He’s succeeded at his goal of sleeping with Hermann. Or he will have succeeded soon enough. Bucking into the touch, he reaches up, slides a hand along Hermann’s arm.

“Can I give you a blowjob?” Newt asks abruptly, because he has his priorities and this is what he’s’ been thinking about.

“I put my hand on you and that’s the first thing you say?”

“Are you offended that I immediately think about getting you off?” Newt quirks a brow and then Hermann starts to stroke him harder, twisting his hand just so on the upstroke. Newt has to hold on to him then.

“I’m offended that you won’t let me finish what I’ve started first.”

Before he can protest, Hermann starts to kiss him again, another hard and filthy kiss. It’s really criminal that Hermann is so good at kissing and hasn’t been kissing him for so long. They’ll have to do this all the time now, with and without the sex part. Hermann’s half laying on top of him now, and he can feel his erection pressed against his hip, insistent and hot and- that’s for him, which is really the thrilling part of this.

He slides a hand up to Hermann’s neck, stroking the gentle skin there as he gives in to the pleasure of his hand. It’s over (with an almost embarrassingly high pitched moan) shamefully quick for the build up, for the years of bickering and weird simmering feelings but it’s alright. He’ll get to have this again.

Hermann draws his hand away with a look of disgust, reaching over Newt again this time to pluck a tissue and wipe off his hand. 

“Got rather taken by the moment, I suppose we’ll only need one of those condoms tonight.”

“Oooh, you’re super into me,” Newt teases, pressing a kiss to the corner of Hermann’s mouth. He squeezes Hermann’s hip. “Now lay back because I feel like after that I owe you a bang up blowjob, bud.”

“Do not call me bud in a sexual context, Newton.”

Hermann does move to lay back though, propping himself up with his multitude of pillows. (For his leg, Newt realizes, but also a very comfortable place to potentially spend the night. That thought thrills him almost more than the sex.) Newt settles further down the bed, between his thighs, kissing the space where his leg meets groin. He reaches a hand up and Hermann presses the condom into his hand.

Newt rips into the condom with his teeth and doesn’t bother to look up to see Hermann’s disapproving stare. Anyway, that doesn’t matter because within a few moments he’s rolling it on with his mouth, which theoretically seems really sexy but in reality ends in Newt pulling away and sputtering a bit.

“You’re very bad at being sexy,” Hermann says, but he’s got this expression on his face that says otherwise.

After giving Hermann a glare, Newt resumes his previous work, kissing along the shaft of his cock. When Hermann reaches down and puts a hand on the back of his head, he can’t resist the desire to take his cock into his mouth. He’s thought about this a lot, and he’s thought about making Hermann feel good. With a heavy lidded glance he looks up to verify that Hermann’s definitely, definitely enjoying himself. Given that he’s biting his lip what appears to be hard enough to draw blood, Newt can safely say he’s doing a good job. He’ll have to give Hermann a high five afterwards. He’ll also have to have a talk with Hermann about verbally showing your appreciation for a damn good blowjob.

Hermann tugs on his hair as he comes, and then he does make an adequately loud and appreciative noise. Newt pulls off and grins, rubbing his cheek on Hermann’s thigh as he waits for him to come down fully from the orgasm. He gingerly rolls off the condom and ties it off, wrapping it in the tissue Hermann’s left on the nightstand.

“That was-” Hermann’s clearly searching for words.

“A start,” Newt answers, nudging Hermann slightly to move over on the bed.

“A start,” Hermann repeats, and he smiles. “Are you staying here tonight, then?”

“Yeah, duh.” Newt snorts.

“If you snore I’m kicking you out, fully naked this time.”

Newt leans up and presses a kiss to his cheek. He suspects Hermann won’t be kicking him out anytime soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Find Lex on tumblr @ [ch3ry1b10ss0m](http://ch3ry1b10ss0m.tumblr.com) and twitter @ [coralbluenmbr5](http://twitter.com/coralbluenmbr5)
> 
> Find Lindsey on tumblr @ [pendragoff](http://pendragoff.tumblr.com/) and twitter @ [newtguzzler](http://twitter.com/newtguzzler)


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